Tabula Rasa (or a villain learns to be a hero)
by impertinentfool
Summary: She'll try to be a hero. Just this once. /or, in which Princess Azula of the Fire Nation dies and lives again in another world, while simultaneously trying not to murder everyone in sight. [Chapter 3 UPDATE: For better or for worst, Azula meets two brats named Izuku and Katsuki. The former annoys her while the latter makes her want to contemplate homicide.]
1. dying in a blaze of glory

**Tabula Rasa (or a villain learns to be a hero)**

 **Summary: She'll try to be a hero. Just this once. /or, in which Princess Azula of the Fire Nation dies and lives again in another world, while simultaneously trying not to murder everyone in sight. Dimension-travel!Azula. Yes, you've read that right.**

 **.:or the supposed redemption story**

 **Warning(s): Mild violence**

* * *

 **I.**

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 **dying in a blaze of glory-**

(a second chance in life)

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* * *

Thinking back, she can't quite remember how she died.

Her mind is muddy, unclear. _How_ did she pass on to the afterlife? Perhaps she died in a fierce battle alongside her fellow Kemurikage sister-in-arms; _Zirin, Konan, Hina-yes, their names were Zirin, Konan, Hina_. Or maybe she got assassinated while she was asleep-a slit throat, a hammer to the head, an arrow piercing through her heart. Meaty hands strangling her throat until her jugular veins almost burst and her skin turns bluish dark. A knife buried inside her chest-sharp, deadly steel so deeply buried, only the handle can be seen.

With the amount of enemies she had, it wasn't that farfetched of an idea.

But what if she had been in an untimely accident? There was also that.

There were so many possibilities.

Imagine: someone slipping a poisonous substance inside the tea she had just consumed hours ago, just like how her and precious little Zuzu's mother killed their grandfather. Now _that_ would be a truly embarrassing way to die.

Maybe, just maybe, she died peacefully in her sleep.

She can't allow herself to hope.

* * *

The real question though, is this: heaven or hell?

She's not delusional. Hell is a likely destination for someone like her. There's no denying that. Many years ago, she _did_ try to kill her both her brother and the oh-so-great Avatar, the utmost figure of spiritual harmony. She could remember it like it was yesterday: the dank crystal cave, her dumb brother and the water peasant, the Avatar about to unleash his power-and then, suddenly, she struck him. It was just so _easy_ , so satisfying to watch the great and powerful Avatar fall because of her power. She was fourteen and the Avatar was only twelve, and she struck him with her _lightning_.

(In hindsight, it seemed like a good idea.)

That's not even counting the other numerous, ambiguously moral things she had done over the course of her long life.

But that wasn't the point.

The point is, she knows. She knows that she's a bad person. Yes, Azula admits it. She wasn't so far gone to the point where she couldn't differentiate on what was morally right or wrong.

If she could still think about matters like this, it means that she's in some kind of purgatory.

She can't see anything though. Everything is dark around her.

* * *

Heaven.

How about heaven?

She must have done something _good_ at least. She can't really remember.

She's dead.

* * *

Princess Azula is afraid of _nothing_.

Well, except maybe her father. And her mother. But other than that, everyone characterized her as fearless, overpowering. And with _good_ reason.

Fear and intimidation. Those were her two main tools. It was better to be feared anyway, than to be loved. Trust was for fools, right?

Wrong.

She had _learned_.

Really, she had.

* * *

She can't go to a place of eternal torment and suffering without a fight.

That's what she thinks, floating somewhere in eternal limbo.

She lived through so much. So much.

She wasn't going to another hell after spending most of her life in her own personal hell; she was _not_ going to hell after just being in _hell_. Or Agni help her, she would claw and fight her way into the heavens just to strangle the Spirits themselves.

Those who share the bloodline of Sozin are born fighters. They weren't _quitters_. Azula was no exception to that rule.

There's just no way, no way, no way-

* * *

Hmm.

Maybe she can live another life, in another world. Reincarnation. What a funny thought. Everyone knows that the Avatar is the only one capable of _that_.

It's a bit unfair, though.

* * *

Everything is dark.

Suddenly-

There's a bright, blinding light in front of her, and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, there's an inkling of a _chance_.

It envelopes everything around her, so much that it burns her eyes just from not seeing this much light for so long.

Maybe…maybe she can even see Zuko.

Maybe-

* * *

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* * *

Yukimura Yui's child is born at approximately 4:43 A.M on the 11th of September at a hospital in Shizuoka.

* * *

It had been a difficult pregnancy, filled with painful contractions. Blood and sweat and tears; and she had cried, prayed to every god and spirit that her child would live, that she was strong enough to bear her child, _please please please live oh sweet god, please please I'd do anything just let my baby live live oh my god JUST LIVE-_

Her first child was taken from her before she could even properly hold him in her arms. If there was a God on earth, the same harrowing experience wouldn't happen to her again.

 _Please please please_

The midwives had decided they'd have to give her an episiotomy. They gave her an injection to numb the pain during the next contraction, thankfully allowing her not to feel them cut her at all.

Finally, after six hours of labor and seven stitches, her baby was born.

It was a girl.

* * *

The moment she first sees her baby, held in her father's arms as the nurses deliver the placenta, the dams break and tears start to flood her eyes. Her baby girl looked so beautiful, so surreal, wrapped in a soft blanket, all smooth skin and closed eyes, and she looked _so_ _beautiful_. Months and months of baited anticipation, of worrying, of daydreaming of when this day would come, and it was _worth it_.

 _I love you,_ she thinks through the exhaustion and pain and elation, _I love you I love you I love you. I will love you until the day I die._

She cries more tears of happiness, so much that the hospital nurses around her start bawling as well, joining her in rejoicing.

Yui didn't mean to accidentally activate her Quirk. She was just so overcome with emotion.

"Give her to me," she says to her husband. Arima complies, gently placing her baby girl to her chest, like a fragile flower easily swept away by the wind.

"She's beautiful," her husband breathes out.

"Of course. She's mine, after all," Yui light-heartedly says, although she knows that between the two of them, her husband, sadly, possesses finer facial features compared to her plain face. But none of that mattered, because she loved Yukimura Arima more than anything else in the world.

Although the person in her arms right now seemed to challenge that statement.

She stares at her child, an odd, mixed sense of maternal love, pride and euphoria bubbling inside her.

Mother and daughter.

At that very moment, Yukimura Yui and the newborn baby in her arms were the only people in the world.

Suddenly, slowly, her baby's eyes begin to open.

Yui stares at her in awe amidst the faint sense of confusion.

Her baby had eyes the colour of summer wheat.

Yui pauses. Blinks.

She and Arima didn't have eyes like that. Yui had light hazel eyes while Arima's were a darker shade of brown.

A genetic mutation, perhaps?

Her baby gazes up at her, wide golden eyes and red cheeks, making a small gurgling noise.

She gazes back.

Did it matter?

Her baby was beautiful. That was all that mattered.

She smiles down at her little angel.

"Yachiyo. My little Yachiyo," she croons, lightly tracing the outline of her baby's soft cheek.

 _Yachiyo. Your name will be Yachiyo._

Named after her late grandmother.

For a second, her baby seems to smile back at her.

* * *

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* * *

When all the shadows around her are completely chased away by the light, that's when she finally, _finally_ gets to open her eyes.

And sees an unknown woman's face looming over her.

 _Who...?_

On pure reflex, she flexes her right hand, trying to summon her flames despite the hammering panic in her heart-

-and stops.

Her hand…her arm…it wasn't _hers_.

 _Calm down, calm down,_ she says to herself, heart rising up to her throat.

 _Where am I, Where am I, Where am I, Where am I-_

Everything was so dark back then. Now everything around her is filled with too much light. _Where is she?_

She tries to scream, scream so hard that her throat feels like burning, but only an indecipherable sound comes out from her lips. Almost like a sound made by a-

Her blood suddenly runs cold. _No._

It was impossible.

Wide, frantic eyes glance at her hands, at her arms, at every part of her body. _No no no no, it can't be, it's impossible, I am not the Avatar-_

She feels so small, so tiny, so helpless. She feels pathetic. She wants to cry and to scream and to vomit, _there was just no way, it's impossible, oh eternal lord Agni, what in the seven levels of hell-_

She's losing her mind.

It's the only possible explanation.

Her brother was right. She _was_ crazy. She admits it now, after all these years. It was a bitter thing to swallow, but somehow, there was always an inkling of self-doubt within her that acknowledged this fact. She was out of her mind, that must be the real reason, because _why in the name of the Spirits-why is she in a newborn's body?_

Or maybe all of this was just a twisted nightmare, a delusion in her mind. If not, then maybe it was punishment for her heinous actions, punishment for acting the way she had…

That was it then.

This was some kind of personal hell, a special purgatory designated just for her.

 _Yes, that was it._

What a pitiful afterlife for a wicked girl like her.

Sudddenly.

The unknown woman, slowly, but surely, places a hand ( _don't touch me don't touch me)_ on her and strokes the soft expanse of her baby's cheek.

By _the grace of Agni,_ she thinks, rages, fumes, _who is this unknown peasant holding me?_

She observes the woman's face-brown eyes, pale skin, black hair. Her face was completely unfamiliar. She didn't have golden eyes, like a firebender's-she didn't look like a filthy waterbender either. An Earth Kingdom dweller?

The woman stares at her with such love, such affection, such warmth, with eyes full of wonderment. _You are the most precious, wonderful thing,_ her eyes say. It makes her feel disconcerted, puzzled. Like something painful squeezing in her chest, constricting. Disgusting.

The woman speaks. "Yachiyo. My little Yachiyo."

 _Reincarnation._

 _What a funny thought._

The Princess of the Fire Nation and once-heir to the throne smiles in defeat.

 _Don't challenge fate,_ a voice whispers in her ear. _Didn't you know that?_

Oh, shut up, Azula thinks, wanting to strangle that mocking voice.

There is the sound of faint laughter before the heaviness of her eyes lulls her back to sleep and the pounding in her head ceases. The smiling woman with the soft eyes and soft hands eventually disappears as well.

 _Well, this is just peachy._

Those damned Spirits.

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* * *

 **A/N: So…here it is, as promised. My reincarnated!Azula-in-an-OC-body fic.**

 **I've always liked stories where the antagonist learns "the error of his ways" and tries to be good (basically Zuko's story in a nutshell). This story isn't really going to focus on redeeming Azula-I'd like to think that she eventually mellowed out in her older years; can you imagine Azula with a conscience?-so much as it is about her hilarious perspective on a world like Boku no Hero Academia. Of course, there's going to be some changes in the canon universe because of her presence, just like how Zuko!Shouto is going to cause ripples in my other story** _ **Bow to the Sun**_ **. (For those interested, you can see _Bow to the Sun_ in my profile. Long story short, it's basically about Shouto being Zuko's reincarnation.)**

 **Have no fear, though. She'll still be the Azula we all know and love, that's definitely not going to change, reincarnation or not.**

 **I'm not going to reveal yet when or what age she died, or the cause. That's a story for another chapter.**

 **And another thing: Azula's going to have a mother with a quirk which can make her feel emotions from other people (empathy) while at the same time, project her feelings unto them, 'cuz it'll be funny to have** _ **Azula**_ **live and deal with emotionally sensitive people. And then learn to love her new parents *gasp* noo spoilerssss**

 **I'm still working on Chapter Four of** _ **Bow to the Sun**_ **and currently writing Chapter Two of this story, although I'm not really sure if I can update immediately due to some unforeseen circumstances and events in my life (but I'm hoping I can post Chapter Two soon). Sorry in advance guys.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading! Leave a review; it'll be greatly appreciated so much, you have no idea**


	2. stranger in a foreign land

**Tabula Rasa (or a villain learns to be a hero)**

 **Summary: She'll try to be a hero. Just this once. /or, in which Princess Azula of the Fire Nation dies and lives again in another world, while simultaneously trying not to murder everyone in sight. Dimension-travel!Azula. Yes, you've read that right.**

 **Warning(s): Slight cussing, psychotic thoughts courtesy of Azula**

* * *

 **II.**

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 **stranger in a foreign land**

(a mother & daughter's thoughts)

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* * *

Almost all her relatives stop by and visit the house, bringing all sorts of gifts and cooing over her baby.

Yui wishes her mother was still alive to see her first grandchild, that she's somewhere out there, watching in heaven. The guests arrive everyday, making her effectively busy from getting too caught up in thoughts like this.

Today, her husband's older sister comes to visit, with her usual flamboyant clothes and light-bleached hair, wearing her usual glaring sunglasses.

"What a goddamn cutie. She's going to be such a fucking knockout, this one," Kasumi says, and Yui's so pleased, she pays no mind to her sister-in-law's colorful vocabulary.

Yachiyo stays quiet throughout the whole ordeal and mostly just stares at them, but Yui swears she can almost see a smug expression on her face.

"If a guy manages to get me knocked up, I hope it'll be as cute as your baby."

Yui doesn't really know how to respond to that, so she just laughs and utters a thank you. Yukimura Kasumi shares the same genes as her brother, so it makes sense that she's also some sort of pretty bombshell-but everything outside the looks department, she's the opposite of: bold, outgoing, and most of the time her less-than-stellar vocabulary is the definition of crass.

But she means well.

Kasumi blinks at Yachiyo and peers at her closer, like she's some kind of rare insect. "It's weird though. Yellow eyes? I'm sure no one in our family has eyes like that."

"I don't know, sis. I've also checked, there's no one also in my side of the family who shares the color of her eyes."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. It's cool. Like a cat or something. The eyes, not your baby, I mean."

"The doctor says it must be some sort of random genetic mutation. Maybe it's related to her quirk? We're not sure yet."

(Yui doubts it though. Her empathy quirk, when activated, lets her feel any strong emotion that a person may harbor: joy, anger, disgust, frustration, excitement, anxiety, and etc. Along with this, her quirk also has a unique feature: she can transfer and project her own emotions onto the people nearby her for a short period of time, something which had caused her her own fair share of troubles many years back, when she didn't have much control over it.

Her husband's quirk, on the other hand, is deeply rooted in the subconscious aspect. An extremely intimate quirk, in which he has the ability to go inside a person's dreams and see through their innermost thoughts and desires, perfect for his job as a psychologist.

It had been no secret why they were attracted to each other in the first place, being both emotionally sensitive people.)

"Hmm. Makes sense. Ugh, what the hell. My baby brother's already a father…it makes me wanna fucking cry."

The rest of the day is spent conversing with Kasumi, catching up with each other's lives. They've known each other before she even met Arima back in college, before she even thought _hey, Yukimura Yui_ _doesn't sound bad_ ; Yui was just a freshman while Kasumi was already a senior. They weren't _close_ , per se, but they were good acquaintances, and Yui could still remember the days when she and Arima were still dating, and whenever she'd visit his house, Kasumi would shake her head and say, "Gosh, how did my baby bro manage to snag such a nice girl like you?"

That was when she was still Honda Yui.

Now look at her, married and now known as Yukimura Yui. How fast time flies.

* * *

The whole time, her daughter watches them. Sometimes Yui wishes she was born with a mind-reading quirk, just so she can know what Yachiyo is thinking most of the time. Which was silly, because her baby would probably just be thinking of baby-related things.

* * *

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Sometimes, when she's alone in her own thoughts, she thinks:

 _My daughter is strange._

It isn't an unfounded claim; rather, a statement solidified and marked by a series of short consecutive events.

* * *

The first time she realizes her Yachiyo is a genius is when she almost burns the house down.

She's sitting on the recliner, in the middle of a nice, relaxing nap, when something nudges her leg.

"Mama, mama, mama…" a voice says. Yachiyo?

She wakes up, startled, and sees her baby sitting down on the floor, and she wonders at the back of her mind how Yachiyo got out of her crib and went up to her when she just learned how to crawl a week ago.

 _Did she just say Mama?_

She blinks her bleary eyes, just to make sure that she's staring at something real.

"Mama. Buwning. Kichen. Buwning."

Yui stares as her jaw drops on the floor. Had she heard that right?

And then the smell hits her.

Yui immediately rushes out of the house, baby in her arms, and she gets the neighbors to help contact the local firemen. Luckily, the firemen arrive shortly afterwards, and the whole house is saved, except for a few areas within the house and the kitchen, which they'll need renovations for. Later she finds out that she carelessly forgot to turn off the stove when she was cooking porridge. She apologizes to the firemen and to her neighbors for the trouble she had caused, feeling majorly embarrassed over the incident.

Her husband immediately comes home upon hearing the news, and he's not angry, just glad that both of them are safe. He doesn't say words of blame, and Yui feels relieved, albeit a little ashamed.

In order to lighten up the mood, she shares about what happened earlier to her husband. How their daughter's first words were _Mama_ (she gloats a little about that) and how she warned Yui of the fire using words that a baby only a few months old shouldn't be capable of saying.

"She said, "Mama, the kitchen is burning". Okay, she didn't really say the full sentence but I could clearly hear her say the words _kitchen_ and _burning_. Her first attempt to speak, and she already knows how to say those words, let alone know what those words mean at all. Are babies her age typically able to speak like that? Should she be able to speak at all?"

"I don't know. She's only a few months old. Maybe she just really wanted to save her mama. Isn't that right, Yachiyo?" Arima asks their daughter. "You really wanted to save Mama?"

Yachiyo blinks at him. Then blinks again, almost contemplating, hesitating. There's silence for five seconds, six, and just as Arima opens his mouth again-

" _Yes_ ," Yachiyo says softly, clearly, and for a second, everyone is shocked.

Arima is preening with pride. Yui laughs, high and cheerful, and rocks her baby to sleep.

"Our little genius," Arima whispers. "She's going to grow up smart."

"Takes from her father."

"Oh, stop. Who got near perfect marks back in college again? I remember a certain someone getting the highest grade on a test once…"

Yui lightly swats at his arm, smile still on her face.

At least something good came out of that day.

* * *

For the record, Yachiyo had only cried a grand total of two times. The first time was the moment when she was born, and the second was when she peed in the middle of the night.

Her baby is unusually quiet, always staring and watching in silence, a far cry from herself when Yui was also still just an infant herself. Yui's mother would often tell her that she thought she had given birth to banshee because of the way Yui would scream out loud, as if the end of the world was near.

In comparison, her own baby was so behaved, so well-mannered. It wasn't like in the movies or books, wherein the mother would be forced to wake up in the middle of the night because of her crying baby. No, in her case, Yachiyo was _too_ silent.

She's not exactly an expert on baby behavior, but she's sure it's not anything normal. Even going as far as to search about it in the Internet. In the end, Yui supposes it's a good thing, being a light sleeper and all.

Her daughter didn't even practice the universal baby tongue of screaming her lungs out for food, as if crying out for food when hungry was too undignified for her. Instead, she'd stay silent, and when the time came that she learned more words, she'll just tilt her head and flash her big golden eyes, and say "Mama, I'm howngry."

God, her daughter was so cute.

Eventually, the years pass. Her little baby turns two, almost three.

One day, Yui wakes up at the crack of dawn when she feels the call of nature and goes to the bathroom to pee. Afterwards she goes back to the bedroom but stops when she hears a faint rustle. Cautiously, she opens the door to Yachiyo's room and sees her little toddler poring over numerous books and newspapers scattered on the floor, the meager light from the window illuminating her baby girl. Yui comes closer and recognizes the books as the ones she kept in the living room for reading material.

Yachiyo is hunched over, looking at a news article with a front cover picture about some newly-debuted hero, while a book lies in front of her, a page open. Yui slowly picks up the book and sees Yachiyo giving her an almost indignant stare, and then shifts the book to see the title on the cover. _Complete History of Japanese Government_ , it says, and she vaguely remembers it as a book she bought on a whim back in high school.

She's sure Yachiyo doesn't know how to read yet (or did she? She's their little genius after all) and she's certain that Yachiyo's just curious about the text written on the pages of the books. Maybe she finds their book covers pretty. She glances at Yachiyo again, and sees her attention back to the newspaper, even turning a page.

The serene image of her daughter surrounded with all these books makes her heart smile. She backs away, closing the door softly.

Wow. Her little daughter was already going to be such a bookworm. Yui isn't too fond of books herself, but the thought of little Yachiyo attempting to read a book almost the size of her is a fond sight.

She tells Arima about it, tells him how she definitely inherited his love for books. She tells him everything, but-

She doesn't tell him about how she thinks their daughter is an old soul with eyes that look too knowing for her age, how she sometimes stares at Yachiyo and sees a stranger, someone cold and distant. (What an awful thing to think of her child.)

She doesn't tell him about how she thinks their daughter is unusual. She prefers to focus on the good things.

Her daughter is strange. But she's destined for great things.

A mother's intuition is never wrong.

* * *

One night, Yachiyo almost gives her a heart attack.

As usual, her husband is late to come home again because of work, so she cooks for herself and her daughter first. She's cooking beef stew for dinner when she calls out her daughter for them to eat. Yachiyo doesn't respond. Maybe's she's asleep, Yui thinks, so she turns off the stove (surely, this time, and she even double-checks) and goes to find her baby girl.

Maybe she's inside her room. Yui pokes her head in. No, she's not inside. She says, "Yachiyo?" just to make sure. Nope. No response.

Kitchen? No. Bathroom? No. Living room? No. Veranda? Backyard? No.

Where is that kid?

She's already searched every corner of the house and Yachiyo isn't anywhere. A cold, foreboding feeling washes over Yui, and she inwardly curses herself for letting her baby out of her sight.

It's a thunderstorm tonight. Rain is pelting everywhere, lightning flashes, and thunder booms in the sky like the holy arrows of God.

In a weather like this, and her child is somewhere out there, freezing to death. No. She can't let that happen.

Maybe she went to the public playground across the corner of their block. Maybe her daughter finally awakened her inner child. Yachiyo isn't the type of child who plays, but it's worth a shot. Better than nothing, at least. She gets her umbrella and brings it with her.

Yui goes there. No such luck, her child is nowhere to be found. So she asks the neighbors, asks the people passing by if they saw a girl of three years old, wearing a yellow sundress and eyes like gold. No, we haven't seen any child with that description, they say. She searches for an hour-and-a-half, and the beef stew's probably cold by now, the coolness in the air seeps inside her bones, making her teeth chatter and her arms have goosebumps. By then, the storm is already gone.

She considers calling the police. Countless scenarios run through her head, most of them involving her only child getting kidnapped. Maybe someone snuck into their house and took her baby away.

If only she hadn't been so careless, she blames herself. Should have locked the gate. Stupid, naïve me. Now her baby is gone, with no one knowing where she is.

Yachiyo is her life now. Without her...

She breaks down in the middle of an empty street and cries from the stress and worry, _oh god oh god oh god, Arima, our daughter_ -and stares right at the blank, amused eyes of her missing troublemaker daughter, wet from head to toe.

"Yachiyo," she whispers.

Her daughter smiles.

"What are you doing, Mom?"

For the first time, she has the horrible urge to spank her child. But relief overpowers anger, and so she settles instead on pinching her baby's cheeks, in a show of both irritation and concern.

"Where have you been?" she asks Yachiyo.

"Somewhere."

"Somewhere _where_?"

"Around," is the short reply, and she doesn't even find it in herself to be frustrated at the cheeky tone.

Yukimura Yui has half the mind to pass out from exhaustion and relief of the fact that her daughter is so oblivious to her mother's worry, so calm and carefree with that devil-may-care attitude that it's almost sadistic.

Before her emotions overpower her, she scoops up Yachiyo and settles her in her arms, small head resting on her shoulder, similar to how Yui would always rock her to sleep when she was just a mere one-year old. Yachiyo complies, soft baby hair tickling the side of Yui's jaw, and she hugs her child tighter, not minding if her chest is now stained with rain water.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again," she hisses to her child. "Don't ever go out of the house without permission, or if it's already night time. You got that, young lady? You almost gave your mama a heart attack."

Yachiyo is silent in the way guilty children are silent.

"What were you even doing outside?"

"I wanted to explore the city."

"You went that far?" Yui asks, horrified beyond belief. "Don't you ever do that again, or I swear to God-"

"It didn't listen to me."

"What?"

"The lightning."

"The what? What light?"

"The lightning, Mom. It didn't answer when I called it."

She stops walking, and shifts slightly to face Yachiyo. Her baby turns to glance at her face, eyes filled with mirth.

"It's a special form of bending, actually. Sometimes it's referred to as the "cold-bloodied" fire."

Yui stares at Yachiyo like she's grown a second head. Or lost her mind.

What is Yachiyo talking about? Yui frowns. She's past the stage of being in disbelief whenever her three-year old daughter says words that are too complex for someone her age, but now she's starting to think that the theory about genius children being a bit mentally challenged in order to compensate for their overly advanced minds isn't entirely just a theory.

She decides to humor her.

"So how does one communicate with lightning, sweetie? Did it talk to you?"

Her daughter snorts. "Lightning doesn't talk. But it should have responded when I called it."

"And how exactly does lightning "respond" to you?"

"It lets me use its power."

I don't understand, is what Yui thinks, but she says nothing instead.

"But I can't will it to listen to me. Not anymore."

There's a sharp pang of sadness emanating from her baby girl. She turns her head slightly, and the faint sorrow on Yachiyo's face is enough to make her heart clench.

"Oh sweetie. What should I do with you?"

* * *

Before she tucks her daughter to bed, she bathes Yachiyo with warm water even though her daughter stubbornly says that she doesn't need one.

When Arima comes home, she talks about it with her husband. She's understandably worried, yes, but he says, don't worry about it, it's nothing, she's just an adventurous little girl, just like her mother. He strokes her hair as they sleep and she lays her head on his chest. Yachiyo is asleep in the other room, but this time Yui makes sure she doesn't go out for another night escapade.

For the first time in what seem like a long time, Yui is able to sleep soundly.

The next day, the incident is all but forgotten. Yui chalks it up as childish nonsense uttered from the lips of a bored child.

She just thinks: My daughter is strange.

But for Yachiyo, it's another story.

* * *

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* * *

For all intents and purposes, she should be dead.

Dead, as in buried-under-six-feet sort of dead.

She should be burning for all eternity now, subjected to all kinds of horrific torture in order to make up for her misdoings in her previous life.

But she's not.

 _Why?_

Instead, she's somehow living in a different body as a different person, in a different world so unlike hers. It was unbelievable, it was crazy, but it was _real_.

The Spirits really had a morbid sense of humor. Sadistic pests.

Living as a newborn was a surreal experience and a fairly humiliating one. Not being able to control her bladder when she wanted to relieve herself was disgusting, and the way unknown peasants would crowd over her and try to speak to her as if she was an illiterate was beyond degrading. Everything about the entire situation was demeaning, like the start of a very bad joke. It made her wish that she had died instead and remained rotting inside the earth.

Apparently, her new name was Yachiyo Yukimura. It had been another blow to her pride. She was named Azula after her grandfather, the late Fire Lord Azulon, out of respect and reverence to him, as a way of Ozai honoring his father. "Azula" had been an esteemed name, fit for royalty like her. "Yachiyo" was a name for a peasant girl.

She supposes none of it is her fault. Her new mother was the one who had decided the name for her, after all.

Yui Yukimura.

She despises her new mother, despises many things about her; from her perpetually meek attitude down to her big brown eyes-which were always wide and filled with some sort of positive emotion, which frankly irritated her to the point that it made her physically exhausted to look at them for an extended period of time. And her submissive, workaholic of a husband wasn't anything better either.

(And the way they acted so sweet together-no one was _that_ happy-especially towards her, made her sick.

If they only knew the truth.)

The first few days, she thought of various ways on how to kill Yukimura Yui, but the rational part of her mind reminded her how _she_ was the odd one, the one who didn't belong in this strange new dimension. If she wanted to survive, she'd have to rely on the people around her. Her reincarnation's family.

Azula was spiteful, but she wasn't a fool. For crying out loud, she was a newborn baby. What could she even _do_?

On one hand, Yui was caring, like a mother should be (what _Ursa_ should've been to her), attentive, and she could've made a good, loyal servant. On the other hand, she was a bit of an airhead like her past friend Ty Lee ( _traitor traitor traitor_ ) and could honestly do better than play housewife in a world like this.

 _A world like this..._

The world she's currently in is drastically different from the world she knows. Here, they have different kinds of technology, different culture, different beliefs, different history. Her mind couldn't stop spinning the first time she read a book about the specifics of the world she now resides in.

 _Everything_ is different.

By the time she could properly walk on her own two legs, sometimes she quietly goes to the living room to read the books on the coffee table (it was a good thing that the house was brimming with information hidden in various reading articles).

During those times, Yui would just glance at her and sigh fondly, and Azula secretly sneers. The stupid peasant thought she couldn't read.

She finds out about the land she's in, an archipelago nation known as Japan, home to millions of people. She reads all about it until night falls, until her eyes are droopy and begging to close. Finds out that the language used in _Japan_ was just so coincidentally similar to the language in her past world, and that was why she was able to understand the people around her and learn to read in an advanced manner, being able to retain some of her former knowledge in her past life.

More than that, there were hundreds of countries all around the planet, each and every one of them unique in their own ways, a plethora of culture and philosophy. Could the Fire Nation have thrived in a world like this? Yes, surely.

It was all there, all the knowledge surrounding her, and she wanted to claim it, wanted to claim this world of opportunity and fortune. Wanted to rule it.

Despite feeling resentment for being reborn in a different world, she had to admit, it was nothing short of _amazing_.

* * *

And another thing: Quirks.

Unbelievable.

Instead of bending, _quirks_ were the norm.

A strange, alien ability present in each individual. Majority of the people in her new world owns this power, ranging from the absolutely inane to the insanely powerful ones.

(How pathetic was this world, when it had all these power, with no one on top? No one to assert one's dominance, no one with immense power willing to strive and rule? There should at least be one eager person existing with the strength to do it. Why were the people in this world so steeped in mediocrity?)

In exchange for the gift of bending, they had quirks. Her new mother and father were testaments to this frightening thing.

If this world wasn't blessed by the Spirits, then how on earth did she get reincarnated in this world instead of her own? _Why_ did she even get reincarnated in the first place?

 _What's her purpose?_

It was madness.

* * *

(She gets her answer many weeks later.)

* * *

One night, Azula decides to be a little rebel.

When her oblivious mother isn't looking (honestly, she's not surprised the woman almost set the entire house on fire that one time), she sneaks out of the house, easy-peasy. The dark, gloomy clouds swirling above her most likely signifies an incoming storm, and she doesn't try to hide the grin that threatens to split her three-year old face. _Perfect._

She walks for hours, and doesn't stop even though her feet aches like an ostrich-horse left in the desert. Surprisingly, no one bats an eye (or maybe they just don't care) at a little girl wearing a yellow dress, all alone by herself.

Under the careless eyes of the adults around her, she hardly finds it difficult to ensure entry inside a thirty-story hotel and use the elevator to reach the rooftop.

By then, the thunderstorm had already begun, and lightning flashes in the near horizon, quick and deadly.

When it comes closer, the flash so bright that everything around her turns temporarily white, she puffs out her small chest and thinks, _I am Azula of the Fire Nation. You will bend to my will._

Lightning redirection. She'd learned how to do it while she was observing Zuko the few instances they'd fought. One small misstep and her blood would instantly stop pumping in her veins.

She can do this.

She raises her right arm upwards and forms the two-fingered gesture she'd mastered as a child. _Quick and precise_ , her instructor's voice echoes in her head, _you do not control lightning. You are lightning itself, Princess._

Instead, static forms around her, her hair rises up-everything feels hot, and then-

-she's thrown back several meters away like a wet rag.

Her ears are ringing and her sight is unclear, black spots appearing in her field of vision.

It was impossible, but she had survived lightning.

Every part of her body hurts.

But it's nothing compared to the consuming disappointment churning inside her.

 _If she can't have her blue flames, if she can't even control or generate lightning…then who was she?_

 _Was she even Azula anymore?_

For the first time in a long while, she cries.

* * *

"This is Hizashi Rina reporting to you live from Tokyo!"

Azula stares at the black contraption showing a cheerful woman greeting what she presumes is the camera. Like the radio, the device called "television" could transmit current broadcasts of the events happening at the moment, but compared to the former, it could show the live images and people as well. Like the annoying woman talking in front of her.

"Just moments ago, we saw the Number Two hero, Endeavor, save thirty-two people from a villain's mad rampage of terror! Amazing! As expected from the Number Two hero himself!"

She doesn't stop staring at the screen as the man who calls himself "Endeavor" finishes off a being which can only be described as an abomination in just mere seconds.

His flames are wide, bright and all too familiar.

Her mouth goes dry. She feels her fingers digging into tiny palms.

She could do that as well. Once.

After the fight is finished, the reporter trudges over to the man, holding a black thing (a microphone, Azula remembers, from a magazine she once read about modern electronics) and holds it out in front of him. "We have Endeavor here with us now! Mr. Endeavor, was there any doubt that you'd be able to defeat that villain and save the people from their utter demise?"

The man grunts, looking slightly disgruntled. Flames flicker from his face, and he clears his throat before speaking to the camera. "What a rowdy reporter. Well, to answer your question: of course not. For heroes like us, small fry like that is nothing. As heroes, we have the utmost responsibility to protect the people in need, and that includes being able to overcome all odds in order to achieve that goal. There's no shortcut, no quick way to do it. A hero throws in his all, no questions asked."

"Wow! What inspiring words! Thank you for…"

Heroes.

She reads about heroes and villains all the time, in newspapers, in magazines. Watches news about them, and concludes that her new world is obsessed with the idea of heroism, of good versus bad. People who use their given gifts as a means to defend those in need or to subjugate the weak, and she's all too aware of the parallels between this world and the one she originally came from.

In this world, anyone can be a hero or a villain. With all these supernatural powers flying around, it wasn't too crazy of a concept.

It was just like a fantasy story, like the ones Ursa would read to her and Zuzu when they were still children. About the forces of good trumping over evil, and evil retaliating back. But the side of good would always win, every single time.

What would she be, then? Would she be considered a villain? The Avatar and his friends would certainly think so, no doubt. Would Zuko…? Would…would their mother-

Wait.

That was it then.

 _This was her purpose._

When she was still on the brink of death, she had asked the Spirits to give her a chance to be in heaven, to be redeemed. She wasn't a religious person by any means, but she had still prayed out of desperation.

What if this was their answer for her? What if all of this was some sort of test? What if they were watching from above, weighing her decisions, seeing if she had truly changed for the better?

What if this was all planned, intended just for her? A designed act?

The Spirits work in mysterious ways, after all.

It was crazy, but it wasn't impossible. _Nothing is impossible_ , she found out, day-by-day in this strange world.

Was it a message for her?

A hero. Should she try and strive to be some kind of advocate of justice? A glorified goody-two shoes? Did the Spirits want her to be like that?

She knew about Buddhism, a religion that some Japanese practiced. In that religion, it was believed that a certain amount of karma and goodwill would be accumulated in each life, and how much good you did would determine where you'd end up in the next stage of one's reincarnation. Reaching the highest level of spiritual attainment ensured that one could escape the cycle of reincarnation.

It was absurd, and she had scoffed at the idea, but-

-what if it was the _truth_?

 _Nothing is impossible._

Oh Agni.

Should she try to be a _hero_?

 _As heroes, we have the utmost responsibility to protect the people in need, and that includes being able to overcome all odds in order to achieve that goal._

That man. Endeavor. He looked so powerful, so confident, so full of bravado and self-assurance. Everyone looked up to him, praised him, held him in awe, just like that vapid reporter.

 _How pathetic was this world, when it had all these power, with no one on top? No one to assert one's dominance, no one with immense power willing to strive and rule? There should at least be one eager person existing with the strength to do it. Why were the people in this world so steeped in mediocrity?_

How could she have been so blind?

The ones on top were the heroes. They were both loved and secretly feared by the masses because of their strength and value in society, their relevance and standing in the social hierarchy amidst all the mindless sheep surrounding them, unaware on how to utilize their abilities to their full potential.

If she wanted to be on top…

If there was a tiny bit of chance that this was all a planned illusion for her…a test designed by those damned Spirits…

Her mind is thinking so fast. She wants to throw up and laugh at the same time.

It was so easy.

Why didn't she see it in the first place?

She sees it now.

It was killing two birds with one stone.

Just this once, _just this once_ -

She'll try to be a hero.

-" _Yachiyo_! Yachiyo, baby, are you sleepy? Let's go to your room…" Yui's voice washes over her like a cold blanket, and she looks up.

"Mom."

"What is it?"

Azula- _Yachiyo_ -turns to her mother, and Yui's eyes widen.

"I want to be a hero."

* * *

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* * *

Azula's happiest day of her new life occurs on her fourth birthday.

Her new parents are sitting with her on the table filled with useless presents, fussing over her and aiming a metal gadget right at her face like she's some type of abnormal specie. It's annoying, and she won't admit it but she likes the attention being lavished on her, so she lets Yukimura Arima and Yukimura Yui sing to her a birthday song like a couple of deranged hog-monkeys.

Her mother's quirk unintentionally makes her feel joyful for no reason even though she really, _really_ wants to burn everything to the ground.

What an annoying ability. If she had her flames…

"-aim the camcorder closer, Arima! Yachiyo, baby, look! Look at the camera! Say hi!"

Yes, they'd get their punishment. In due time.

Azula forms a smile so fake it hurts her cheeks. Yui continues prattling on like a parrot-monkey. "Say hi, Yachiyo!"

"Hi," Azula manages to spit out, teeth grinding, mouth barely able to form anything but a scowl. "Hello."

"The cake! Arima, the cake!"

The diabetes-filled dessert is thrust in front of her, all sugary-sweet icing and horrible pink color. A number "4" candle sign is perched on top of the offending object, along with four mini candles.

She feels slightly nauseous.

"Blow your candles, Yachiyo, and make a wish!"

 _I wish you'd drop dead and die. I wish the Spirits would take pity on me and save me from this hell. I wish I can burn this cake._

 _I wish I can use my fire again._

 _I wish I can be hero someday._

Azula rolls her eyes. She takes a breath, and blows-

The cake is suddenly engulfed in blue flames.

Arima yells in shock and drops the camcorder. Yui gives a startled yelp, scooting away.

Azula sits, shell-shocked, fierce blue fire blazing to life in front of her.

 _What?_

 _How did that happen?_

 _She can't use her bending anymore in this world._

 _Can she?_

Arima snatches their newly-installed fire extinguisher and uses it to extinguish the growing fire. All her presents and the cake itself are just charred black soot by now, but Azula couldn't care less.

 _She could use her flames._

 _She had her fire again._

A smile begins to grow on her face.

"Oh, baby," Yui sighs. "We promise we'll make it up to you."

"Yui…that's her quirk," Arima says quietly. "The blue fire she breathed out. That's it."

 _Good guess._

 _But no, it's not a quirk, you fools._

Both her new parents stare at her in mildly-disguised horror.

The smile grows bigger on her face.

 _Dreams really do come true, don't they?_

* * *

A few days after the whole fiasco- _failed birthday party_ -her mother approaches her.

"Yachiyo, I'm going to tell you something exciting."

She narrows her eyes. "Something exciting" could either mean something positive or negative.

 _What? What is it?_

"What is it, Mom?"

Yui smiles at her. "Tomorrow, you're going to meet new friends! You're going to nursery school. It'll be so much fun."

Azula really should've just killed the woman when she had the chance.

* * *

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* * *

 **A/N: What a chapter to write. Took me half the day to finish.**

 **Establishing other characters and their motivations is an important part of world-building, so I had to offer a part of the chapter to her new parents. Also, I sincerely hope I got Azula's voice right. I want to have a good grasp on her character. There might be a chance she's going to mellow out, but until then, enjoy disturbingly-sadistic!Azula. (And I've just realized: Dabi's the Azula in the BNHA world, isn't he? xD)**

 **It'll take a while for Azula to be integrated and to mess with the lives of some of the canon characters (just like Zuko!Shouto in my other story) but I promise that it'll be worth it. I'm still frustratingly busy with some things, but since I'm on a roll, I might be posting Chapter Three sooner than later. (And I promise I'll update _Bow to the Sun_ soon! Have patience, guys.)**

 **And to answer some of your reviews: Yes, this'll be a different-AU from _Bow to the Sun_ (although I'm thinking of making a spin-off which'll merge these two stories). Romance? I'm not sure if I'll be able to integrate romance in this story, but I have some pretty interesting ideas running in my head, so it might happen (it'll be pretty crack-ish, though, 'cuz I'm messed up like that). **

**Thanks for reading!**

 **Love it? Hate it? Review!**


	3. be a good girl and smile for them, honey

**Tabula Rasa (or a villain learns to be a hero)**

 **Summary: She'll try to be a hero. Just this once. /or, in which Princess Azula of the Fire Nation dies and lives again in another world, while simultaneously trying not to murder everyone in sight. Dimension-travel!Azula. Yes, you've read that right.**

 **Warning(s): Our lead character's unstable mind (which is entirely canon btw)**

* * *

 **Fun Fact: In the Avatar world, most of their animals are hybrids of two different types.**

* * *

 **III.**

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 **be a good girl and smile for them, honey**

(or, alternative title: the beginning of a long-lasting rivalry)

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* * *

"There. Stand there. Smile, Yachiyo!"

She's in front of the school gates, wearing her nursery-school clothes and carrying her bright red backpack on her back. Semi-amused glances from passing onlookers and fellow parents are aimed at the lively mother and her frowning daughter.

She doesn't even try to feel embarrassed. Her head slightly strains with pain from the too-tight pigtails that her mother did to her hair-she's going to take off her stupid hairstyle the first chance she gets-and Azula's just so tired and weary already, she just wants the day to be over with.

And so she smiles, even though it looks forced and unnatural. Apparently Yukimura Yui doesn't care and just keeps snapping away with her camera.

She poses for five more minutes in the exact same position and when she's had enough, blue fire starts to tingle in her fingertips, fully prepared to use it on her annoying mother. Thankfully, Yui finally stops and takes Azula's hand to guide her to her new classroom.

The nursery school-Azula didn't bother to remember its name-looks a bit wide from the outside but is actually smaller on the inside. It doesn't take too long for them to find her room. The transparent glass entrance door looks as imposing as it shouldn't be. She can already see the tiny heads of plenty of children.

There were so many brats inside.

 _She's never liked children. Never found them cute, never wanted to have them._

"Goodbye, Yachiyo," Yui says to her, eyes starting to tear up. Azula resists the urge to roll her eyes. "You have your lunchbox? Good. I made your favorite: fried shrimp. There's ketchup in the small container, if you'd like."

"Okay."

"My baby girl's all grown up," she sniffs. "I can't believe you're old enough to go to school. Time really flies so fast."

 _It's just a stupid school for peasant brats._

"Are you going to be alright here?"

"It's fine, Mom. I can manage by myself."

Her mother looks as though she's the one who's going to nursery school, not Azula. She extends her arms out to hug her daughter, and Azula reluctantly complies. They hug awkwardly for half a minute until Yui pulls away and Azula sighs with hidden relief.

"Bye Yachiyo."

"Bye Mom." _Good grief._

Azula stares at her mother until she disappears from view; taking a deep breath, she turns around and braces herself as she pushes open the door.

Heads turn to glance at the new arrival.

Oh joy.

* * *

"Yachiyo-chan, dear, why don't you play with Rei and the others?"

Azula tries her best to hide her scowl. Instead, she gives her pseudo-I'm-a-clueless-little-girl smile and turns her head up to look at Ms. Fujioka with her big adorable baby eyes.

"I'm okay, Ms. Fujioka. I'll just play with them later. Thank you, Ms. Fujioka," she says, loathing the way she needs to act just to make sure that she doesn't seem too off-putting.

Her nursery teacher gives her a look which she thinks is meant to be understanding, and then pats Azula's cheek like the stupid little toddler she is. "What a polite little girl," the blasted woman murmurs, and Azula barely, _barely_ restrains herself from setting the peasant's face on fire, for even daring to touch her.

"Okay. Don't be shy to play with your classmates, Yachiyo-chan. We're all friends here."

 _No, we're not, you cretin._

The peasant smiles before finally letting go of her cheek and moving on to grace her fellow schoolmates with her annoying presence.

Which was a good thing, since Azula was literally just moments away from committing homicide.

Azula takes a moment to scan her surroundings, trying to filter out the irritating noise of children in her brain. Takes a moment to register the harsh, cruel reality she's in.

Nursery school.

She's in nursery school.

Stuck with a bunch of drooling, thumb-sucking, mindless little midgets-most of whom haven't even gone passed the toddler phase-for almost a whole day. She, a grown woman in a child's body.

What.

It would have been funny if it wasn't so sad.

She didn't want to be here. She wanted to disappear.

It wasn't enough that she had to endure the torture of being stuck in a baby's body. Now she had to interact with a bunch of preschooler brats, too?

It was too much. By hook or by crook, she was getting out of this toddler hellhole, the Yukimuras be damned-

"Yachiyo!"

Her head instantly turns towards the direction of the voice, and sees two girls running towards her.

"Yachiyo," a girl with short black hair chirps. "You're Yachiyo, right? That's a pretty name! Let's be friends!"

 _Thanks, but let's not._

"Come on, play with us," the girl besides her says. "Let's play together."

 _I'm sorry, but I'd rather not._

And then she grabs Azula's arm like its nothing, and it's been three hours since she's been in this stupid kindergarten school and she already feels like screaming.

The headband-wearing brat is the second person to have touched her besides their dumb advisor, and it makes her skin crawl. She'd already- _reluctantly_ -admitted defeat in preventing Yui from placing her grubby hands on her, but she hadn't truly anticipated the danger of being surrounded by dirty peasants and idiots alike.

She stares at the two brats in front of her, and decides that committing mass murder isn't worth the disaster that could possibly ensue, so she lets them drag her away to who-knows-where.

It's recess time, so they get to play at the playground outside. The sun is blaring hot, but her classmates are all just a couple of dumb, energetic children, so they don't care about the heat.

The two girls leading her runs towards a secluded area near the shade of a tree hovering above. Azula immediately snatches her arm away and tries to wipe the excess sweat and possible drool or god-knows-what that the stupid brat had on her hand.

"This can be our secret hiding place," short-hair whispers in an exaggerated manner. "Don't tell anyone about this place, Hiyori, Yachiyo."

The headband-brat- _Hiyori_ -nods earnestly and Azula refrains from rolling her eyes in the back of her head.

"What's your name?" she asks short-hair instead. It was protocol to know a possible subordinate's information.

The girl blinks, a shy smile forming on her gap-toothed face.

"Rei," the girl answers. "But my full name is Terizawa Reiko. Rei's also my name."

"I'm Hiyori! Hiyori Minami!"

Azula hums in response. "Well, my name is Yukimura Yachiyo. My first name is Yachiyo," she says, even though saying her new accursed name makes bile rise up her throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"What's "pleasure" mean?" Hiyori asks, and Azula almost palms her face in growing exasperation.

"Nevermind."

"Let's play house! I'll be the mama!"

"I don't want to be the daddy! It has to be a boy."

"I don't want a boy playing with us! Boys are _yuck_."

Azula sighs. "Girls, girls…how about let's play a different game then? How about tag?"

Rei and Hiyori look at each other, and they seem to make a mutual silent decision. Azula's almost impressed.

"Okay!" They yell in unison, and Azula grins. Now is her chance to escape.

"Who wants to be _it_?"

"I don't want to be _it_!"

"I also don't want to be _it._ "

They stare at Yachiyo. "Do _you_ want to be _it_?"

Azula smiles, sharp and deadly. "Sure."

Shortly after, she hears their screeching as they try to find and claim a place to hide away from her, and she shakes her head in amusement. She could easily find them, with all the noise and racket they were making.

But she won't. Because she's not playing their dumb kiddy game.

Instead, she also finds a place where she can stay and hide, far away from everyone.

* * *

There's a small grove area near the school gates, a place everyone avoids because of a rumor of a child getting spirited away when he went there once. Supposedly, a malicious ghost was there, waiting for children to take away in order to devour their souls.

What a stupid rumor. Ghost or not, she doesn't care. She's going to claim the place as her own.

Thankfully, it's a bit far from where the other children are playing at, and Ms. Fujioka's nowhere in sight. There's a cluster of trees which can help her hide from plain view. For some reason, the entire area is completely silent except for the faint rustling of trees. No one's around. Good.

Azula hunches down and slowly opens her right palm. She breaths in, breaths out, and remembers how she had first summoned her fire, the orange tinged with cerulean blue, proud and alive. She had been five then. She's four now ( _again_ ) but she knows she can do it again. She's descended from Fire Nation royalty; the blood of Sozin runs in her veins, and _she can do it_.

There's a spark, small but there, and then a bigger one. A flicker of blue fading in the space of air.

The glow from the fire shines on her face.

Breath in, breath out.

The fire sitting on her palm grows large, larger, until it grows so large it reaches _three-feet high_ , and she marvels at it, doesn't even feel the sting on her skin-

"Yachiyo! Yachiyo, where are you? Ms. Fujioka says class is starting, she says you should go back to the class- _aaahhhhh!_ "

She whirls around and sees Rei staring at her face with wide eyes. The fire patiently sits on the palm of her hand, waiting for her command.

"Yachiyo…"

Azula waits for another scream of terror.

"…that's so _cool_!"

She blinks, surprised. The blue flame dies down a bit, lowering into a feet tall, a hint of it weaning into smoke and wafting into the open air.

Rei bounces up to her, eyes gleaming. "You never said you already had your quirk! That's so cool!"

 _Why? Do I need to?_

 _It's not even a quirk._

Something rustles, and Hiyori pokes her head in. "That was mean! You didn't even try to find us… _ohisthatyourquirk_?"

Azula blinks some more. That wasn't the response she was expecting. They weren't looking at her in fear. They were _impressed_.

"It's so pretty! And scary!"

"Can I touch it? Will it burn me?"

"You want to try?" she says, amused.

The rule goes, if you have one person staring at a spot on the ground, you're a weirdo. If you have two, there must at least be something slightly interesting, and others will surely stop to see what you're looking at. In that vein, more of their schoolmates flocked to them like hungry lion-vultures, their arrival announced by more rustling.

Pretty soon, there's a crowd of chaotic children swarming around her.

"Wow! She's just like Endeavor!"

"He's my favorite hero!"

"That's awesome!"

"It's unfair! I want to have my quirk soon!"

"Make it bigger! Make it bigger!"

In spite of herself, Azula smiles.

"Rei, Yachiyo, where are you? What are you doing here?"

Ms. Fujioka appears behind them, a stern expression on her tired face. When her eyes land on Yachiyo, it widens into large saucers.

"Yachiyo…is that your quirk?"

"I think so," Azula mumbles, even though she's cursing everyone in her head for interrupting her solitude.

"Wow," her teacher breaths out. And grins.

"You're just like Endeavor. Fire's also his quirk, you know…"

* * *

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* * *

"How was your first day, sweetie?"

Azula stops playing with her dinner and stares at her mother's inquisitive eyes.

"How was it? Well," she starts, "I made two new friends today, and the whole class discovered my quirk. They said it was amazing."

Yui beams at her as she finishes chewing her fruit salad. "That's good! I'm so proud of you, Yachiyo. What are your friends' names?"

"Hiyori and Rei. Anyway,"- _Enough about that nursery school,_ Azula thinks-she mulls over another thought, thinks about how she should phrase it. Yui gives her a share of the fruit salad and Azula politely says no, I'm already full, before she lets her voice turn into a curious tone.

"How can a person become a registered hero?" she blurts out-of-the-blue, and her clumsy new mother almost accidentally drops the pitcher of water on her hand, startled.

Her baffled mother's brown eyes widen in surprise. "Why? Why are you asking?"

"Just curious, Mommy."

Yui sighs and sets her spoon down. "To tell you the truth, sweetie-I don't really know. I suppose you have to apply to a hero agency first-I'm not sure you know what that means-before doing other complicated stuff. I'm not really the right person to ask this-your daddy, he wanted to be a hero once. You can ask him about that."

"You weren't interested in becoming a hero?" Azula genuinely asks.

"Once. I thought of becoming a hero before. I mean, _everyone_ wanted to be a hero, so-" Yui stops herself, frown in place. "Anyway, that's not important. Yachiyo…you want to be a hero, don't you?"

Azula morphs her expression into an undistinguishable one. "I just think it's very interesting."

Silence reigns for a few seconds, and then Yui levels her apprehensive gaze at her. "I'd say being a hero is a noble, admirable thing," she says, slowly, carefully, as if testing the words on her tongue. "I'm sure most children your age think that it's the coolest thing ever. And I'm sure any parent would say that it's the best job in the world. But I'm only going to tell you this because you're my intelligent little girl, and I know you'll try to understand when I say that I don't think being a hero is good for you."

"Why?"

"Because it's dangerous, Yachiyo. Being a hero means risking your life on the line every single time you're on the job. It means…it means _dying_ , Yachiyo. Getting hurt in painful ways. You're only four, so you don't really truly understand the gravity of it all."

 _Oh, you have no idea._

"Okay," Azula says. "And I _do_ understand."

"Yachiyo, baby, I'm sorry for being too serious on you. It's just…when I think of you being in danger, I just want to cry. You don't want your mommy to be sad, do you?" Yui stands up and walks over to her daughter before pulling her into a hug. Azula grimaces.

"But, if you truly want to be one, I won't stop you. You're young, so you have plenty more years to think about it."

"I just…." _I just wanted a headstart on how to begin my plan of becoming a famous hero._ "I'm sorry for making you sad."

"It's alright; I should be the one who's sorry, baby," Yui sniffles pathetically. "Turning a simple question into something like…god, your mama's such a drama queen sometimes."

"Sweetie, why do you want to become a hero so badly in the first place, anyway?"

 _Because it might be my only chance of satisfying those bastards up there. Because even someone like me wants to go to heaven._

"That strong man named Endeavor just seemed so cool," is what she says instead.

"Endeavor, huh," Yui mumbles. "He's good, but my favorite is All Might."

The rest of their conversation is diverted unto more mundane topics, much to Azula's disappointment and frustration.

* * *

When her father comes home, she asks him the same question.

"You want to be a hero, dearie?"

Azula doesn't even bother to reply; she just shrugs, and pouts dimly, like a child being asked if he just broke the expensive vase.

Arima chuckles. "You're really your father's little girl. Well, the first thing to do before everything else is to enroll in a good, respectable hero-nurturing school. One that helps hone and develop a person's skills in using his or her quirk."

Azula nods; she decides on that moment forth that she likes this man more than her new mother simply because he treats her seriously, not like an idiot.

"Man, I could still remember the day when I got accepted into U.A. after graduating from junior high school. Happiest day of my life, before, you know, I married your beautiful mother. Don't tell her that, though," Arima playfully says.

"U.A?"

"U.A High. It's a school for aspiring heroes, and a rather hard school to get into, mind you. I was so proud when they accepted me. Not that it did me any good in the long run," her father gives a self-depreciating laugh.

 _She had to enroll in some school like that_? Azula frowns, mind in deep thought.

The official Japanese school system was composed of a compulsory education spanning a total of nine years, (after nursery school) from grades one to nine, typically starting from the young age of seven: six years at elementary school to complete one's primary education and three years at junior high school. Three more years of secondary education would be spent at high school after junior high (by then, she'd already be at least eighteen years old). A grand total of twelve long years.

Twelve more years of studying, of being forced to learn alongside snot-nosed brats and interact with them.

Agni help her.

"I ended up in the General Studies course. That's where most potential sidekicks end up in. Of course, it didn't surprise me; my quirk's not exactly one for combat or for saving people literally. I wanted to be in the Hero course, but you can't always have what you want," Arima continues, already lost in a sea of memories.

"Of course, you can skip all that and just apply to an agency and expect that they'll be able to see your potential, but where's the fun in that? Preparing to be a hero is half the fun, I think," he says, and pauses. "I got lost in my thoughts there, little lady. It's just easy to talk to you."

Despite her reluctance to accept these two buffoons as her new parents, Azula feels a tiny bit of pride and warmth at those words. Fishing for compliments never came easy for her; Ozai wasn't exactly a person who'd give praises easily, and Ursa always paid more attention to Zuko, the problem child, which Azula always resented her for. And then she disappeared-banished by their father-and Azula never forgot those feelings of bubbling resentment, never had time to move past it and find out for herself on what extent she truly loved her mother.

But the Yukimuras…they were touchy-feely, maybe too much so, but…from time to time, it wasn't so bad. Sometimes-dare she say it?-it was… _nice_.

Did she hate them for all the wrong reasons?

Dear Agni…she was going soft.

"If you do want to become a hero, Yachiyo baby-"

And if they would just stop with the stupid names. She just wasn't used to being babied.

"-I'd say you'd make a great one."

She glances at him, astonished.

"Mom says she doesn't want me to become a hero." The words are out before she stops them, but she doesn't try to look bashful at all.

Arima goes quiet, and nods. "I understand. Being a hero's a dangerous job, after all. She's not wrong."

"But?" There was something else in that sentence.

"Yachiyo, even though you're our little genius, you're still our baby girl. You're still young, so you're not sure what you want to be in the future. But you have a great quirk, and there's a fire in you that needs to be stoked. What I mean to say is...if ever you think about becoming a hero, I'm sure you'll be able to do it, because you're _you_. Just be careful on the way, alright?"

He gives her a disarming smile, and Azula sees no pretention in this man. He's honest. And she starts to understand why his quirk involves being able to see and roam the dreams of people he meets.

 _This one, he's a dreamer, through and through._

"Dad," she says, and swallows. "I want to be a hero because I might be able to go to heaven if I become one."

The truth. She's telling him the truth.

She can at least give him this much.

Arima stares at her, an unreadable expression on his face. And then he laughs.

"Good deeds beget a good future," he says, grinning. "Let's not think about the afterlife first, sweetie. That's a long time into the future. Just enjoy life, and continue wanting to do good."

She listens, and thinks: _okay_.

Maybe she will.

* * *

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.

.

.

* * *

The next day, news of her quirk spread throughout the whole school like wildfire.

She's the first ever in her entire year to manifest a quirk, and a strong one at that. The teachers whisper, _she's a prodigy, that one, she's special, I heard she can already speak and read like a fourth-grader_ and she smirks whenever she hears it.

Well, she's not complaining. Back in her old world, she was the princess of an entire nation, and everyone was expected to bow down to the ground in respect whenever she so much as walked by their path or glanced at their direction. She's missed the feeling of everyone kissing her feet.

In her new world, she didn't have that status anymore. So, right now, everyone sucking up to her-it fills her with an indescribable sense of satisfaction.

That's right. It wasn't just a feeling of entitlement; she was destined to be rightfully worshipped, in whatever world she ended up in.

School became significantly more tolerable after that.

Her classmates would _aahhh_ and _oohhh_ whenever blue fire would pop out from her tiny hands, or if she willed it to take various shapes and lengths. It was actually humbling, seeing the art of bending getting appreciated by all the non-benders around her, even though they mistook it for a quirk.

Ms. Fujioka has to keep order before her classroom becomes too noisy. "Everyone, please sit down and behave! I'm sure Yachiyo-chan will have time to bond and play with you all."

Azula mentally adds the teacher to her hit list.

"So, class!" their teacher announces with a smile. "Get your notebooks and your pencils. Today we're going to practice writing kanji. You're going to be helping each other out in a group of two. Your partner will be your seatmate. I'll be showing you flash cards and you'll try to guess and write the complete kanji of the picture."

Azula turns to the boy sitting beside her, not being able to remember his name when they stood in front of the class to introduce themselves one-by-one. "Hey, you," she starts, and the boy stares at her, almost shyly, unruly green ( _odd_ , she thinks, but then everything in this world is odd) hair flying around. "What's your name again?"

"My name?" the boy squeaks out. "Um…I-I'm Izuku. Midoriya Izuku."

It's annoying to try to interact with a stuttering little boy, but she manages to give him her best saccharine smile. "I'm Yachiyo," she says.

The boy stares at her some more, cheeks turning to pink. "You have a cool quirk, Yachiyo." He beams at her and then immediately reddens. He gets his notebook from his bag and flips to an empty page while sneaking glances at her. "Aren't you also going to write in your notebook?"

Azula doesn't bother to reply and turns her attention back to their teacher showing them a picture of a gray feline. "That's a cat-owl."

Izuku blinks. "Um, I think that's a tabby cat."

"No, it's a cat-owl. The drawing looks strange but I'm sure it's one."

Izuku looks confused. "Is there a thing like a cat-owl?"

"You're questioning me?"

"I-I'm not, I've just never heard of a cat-owl before…"

"Fine then. I suppose you've never heard of a catagator?"

"A _what_?"

Azula opens her mouth to respond, but chooses to close it. She'd forgotten that they had different kinds of animals in this world. Now she looks like the idiot between the two of them.

"Okay. You're right, it's a cat. Now write it down," she says, now irritated. Izuku looks at her nervously before slowly starting to write in big, squiggly kanji characters.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry. I don't really know how to write."

Azula sighs. "Give me your pencil. I'll write it down for you."

"What? No, it's okay-"

"Just give it to me."

He hands her his notebook immediately. Azula writes the kanji for cat in her elegant, precise penmanship, a stark contrast to the crude handwriting above it. "There."

If possible, Izuku's face turns redder, his ears also turning red. "Thanks," he mumbles in his small voice.

"You're welcome."

"Are you all done? Pencils up!"

The classroom of excited children follows, except for Azula, staring at the front with a bored expression.

"Next! What's the kanji word for this?"

Now that's something she's sure of. "A platypus-bear," she intones proudly.

"Um…Yachiyo…I think it's just a bear."

"Really? That's strange."

Izuku stares at her. And then he giggles once, before quickly covering his mouth, clamping it shut. " 'm sorry," his muffled voice says.

Okay, enough of this. She huffs and crosses her arms, turning away from him. Resists the tempting thought of burning him alive.

From the corner of her eyes, she sees Izuku look down at his hands in shame. "I'm sorry for laughing at you. I just thought it was funny."

"Well, I didn't." She hates how she's starting to sound like a sulky brat.

"I'm sorry-"

"Yachiyo-chan? Izuku-kun? Everything all right there?" Ms. Fujioka's concerned voice calls out.

"Yes Ma'am," both of them say in unison, and Izuku immediately splutters in embarrassment while she tries to tone down her glare as he fidgets awkwardly in his seat. The entire classroom is silent, looking at them.

Ms. Fujioka stares at them silently, and then continues the session.

"Okay…next up, what's the kanji word for this object?"

* * *

The bell rings when dismissal comes, and Azula instantly makes for the exit, mood already sour. But then something grabs her arm, and she almost wills her fire to come out.

It's Izuku, and he's looking down in embarrassment, afraid to meet her eyes. He lets go of her. "I want to apologize again."

Azula rolls her eyes and sighs. She's not going to act like some petty kid. It was beneath her.

"It's fine. You don't need to."

"But-"

"But _nothing_. I was stupid for not knowing those simple words."

The boy's eyes widen. "You're not _stupid_ , Yachiyo! You're smart, pretty,"-his voice lowers so much on that part that she has to strain her ears to hear it-"and you're kind." _Lie of the century,_ she thinks. "You're just like my best friend! He can already read, just like you."

"Uh-huh," Azula drawls, already disinterested. "Okay, I have to go home now. My mom's going to pick me up shortly, so-"

"Wait!" Izuku shouts, almost desperately. "Let's be friends."

 _What is wrong with this kid?_

Azula scoffs and folds her arms. "Listen, Izuku, first off, you're not that important to me that I'd hold a grudge. Second, I'm not interested in making friends."

"B-But I want to! I don't care if you're a girl…I just think we should be friends. You're really cool and smart, and I think your flames are pretty, and they look powerful, almost like Endeavor's-but I'm not saying it makes it any less cooler, it's just-"

"You're mumbling."

"Sorry!"

 _How many times had he said the word "sorry"?_ It was putting a damper on her mood, making it even worse.

"I'm so sorry for making you mad at me! Please, Yachiyo-I'll make it up to you! Here, you can borrow my All Might figurine!" he says with a puppy-dog look in his eyes, and she almost starts to pity him. Almost.

"Did you even listen to what I just said? I said I'm not interested to be your friend, so just let me go home before I get really angry."

"But-"

"Just give it a rest, stupid Deku," a new voice says.

Azula turns around and sees a boy with a pair of eyes the color of blood. Another brat, looking almost as annoyed as her.

"Kacchan!"

The boy named Kacchan tuts and lets out a huge sigh. "You were taking so long. It's bad enough that you're such a dumb Deku, but you're also slow. It's really annoying when you make me wait for you-"

And then his eyes meet hers. They stare at each other for an awkward second, two, and Azula looks away as she adjusts the strap on her bag and ignores Izuku's cry of protest when she goes out the door.

"Hey you, pigtail girl!"

She turns around and sees the brat with red eyes and spiky hay-colored hair still staring at her. "You're Yukimura Yachiyo, right? The one with blue fire as a quirk?"

Azula tilts her head and places a hand on her hip, trying to look as petulant as she can. "Yes, that's me. Who are you?"

"Um, he's the one who I said was my best friend-"

"Shut up, Deku."

And then the unknown boy gives a cocky grin and raises his chin up, a perfect picture of an arrogant brat. "I'm Bakugou Katsuki. Don't you remember?"

Azula hates him already.

She has no time for these brats, so she puts on her fake smile and says, "It's my first time meeting you, so of course I don't remember."

The brat- _Katsuki_ -glares at her. "We're classmates. What, you think you're so above the rest of us just because you already have your quirk that you don't even care to remember our names?"

 _This brat. For Agni's sake, we're all a bunch of preschoolers with the attention span of a fruit fly._

 _But if you ask me, I honestly couldn't care less what your name is._

But because she's feeling particularly vicious that day, she gives him a sardonic grin of her own, and says, "Pretty much."

The spiky-haired brat scowls.

Azula decides to drop her nice girl act and lets her voice turn threatening, the subtle voice she uses whenever she would try to intimidate people and get them to listen to her or _else_. "Listen, you peasant. You're really testing my patience. Does a little brat like you not have better things to do than pick a fight with a girl?"

Izuku backs away from her as she speaks, and the brat beside him has his mouth agape, before he closes it into a furious scowl and tries his best to glare at her, hands balled into fists.

 _Oh, he's angry? Good._

"You-"

" _Kacchan_! Please, let's try not to make her angrier."

"You siding with her, Deku?"

"No, it's not like that, let's all just be friends here-"

What an annoying pair of peasant children. They were giving her a headache. So irritating.

"Oi, Yukimura," Katsuki growls at her. "Don't call me a _brat_. Don't call me _little_ -we're just the same age. You're so annoying, with that stupid look on your face as if you're better than us-"

Azula continues walking away from them, thoroughly done with the conversation. How dare those stupid brats take away a portion of her precious time? She had no time for them when she had plans, grand plans to do.

She entertains the thought of burning them alive-especially that spiky-haired brat-and hiding the bodies afterwards.

"- _oi_! Are you listening to me? I'm going to get my quirk soon, just wait and see, and it'll be better, _cooler_ than yours will ever be!"

Azula doesn't try to hide her scoff and turns to give a sideways-look at the two children standing behind her. "That's _nice_. I'd like to see you try. Bye."

And then she's gone, leaving a fuming boy and his disheartened friend.

* * *

Katsuki makes do on his promise. His quirk reveals itself the very next day.

Like déjà vu, their classmates surround him, cooing and marveling at the tiny sparks he creates with his palms. Ms. Fujioka sings him praises, and all of them start saying how it's such a flashy quirk, how it's perfect for an aspiring hero, all except Azula, who chooses to remain in her seat and read a magazine about up-and-rising heroes for the past year instead.

She's in the middle of reading an article about the importance of female heroes when she decides to glance at the brat-who's no doubt thinking that he's the center of the world right at that very moment.

She looks up, and sees him staring at her, not at their fellow schoolmates, not at their teacher. Her.

And his eyes are gleaming with challenge.

They say _bring it on._

She holds his stare, and hers say, _with pleasure._

* * *

.

.

.

(She tries not to think about how much those eyes remind her of Zuzu.)

* * *

If it was even possible, the brat becomes more annoying when he discovers his quirk.

"I can create explosions with my sweat," he explains to their awestruck classmates, and he's looking so proud and smug that it makes Azula roll her eyes. A tiny bit of her whispers how hypocritical it is for her to criticize a person for taking immense pride in his abilities, but she squashes it down.

And because she finds him both irritating and amusing, she says, "That's disgusting."

Even with all her classmates' excited chatter, her voice is clearly heard over the garbled noise.

They fall silent, and Katsuki glares daggers at her, until his fans start conversing with him again, making comments about his quirk, and he chooses to bask in the attention instead of arguing with her. She smirks in her chair.

Come lunch time, and she sees him approach her, mouth already set in a scowl that doesn't nearly fit his young face, glare aimed right at her.

"What's your problem?" he says. To his back are two boys, and Azula thinks _ah, the lackeys_.

She would know; she had them before. Before they chose to betray her like the traitorous little fiends they were.

"What do you mean?"

"Trying to make me look bad! What, afraid you're gonna get stood up by me and left in the dust?"

"You wish."

Katsuki thrusts out his hand in front of her, and erratic little sparks form on it. "You wanna get a taste of this?"

Azula almost laughs, and as gracefully as she can, calls forth her bending. Hot blue fire rises up and almost reaches the ceiling of the classroom. Katsuki's lackeys immediately back away in fright, but Katsuki holds his ground.

"You were saying?" It's hard not to keep the smug tone in her voice.

"It's not that impressive," the brat grouches. "Endeavor has cooler-looking flames. Yours don't even look that cool."

"Actually, it does a bit-" the taller of his lackeys say, and Katsuki instantly turns around to glower at him, effectively shutting him up.

It takes a while for Azula to realize that, as impossible as it sounds, she's being _bullied_.

No one had _dared_ to bully her before. She was the Princess; even the most snotty and pretentious girls in the academy would cast their eyes downward whenever she was in close vicinity. It was, after all, protocol to show royalty the respect they demanded. Those girls were from a proud line of nobility, yes, but she was _the_ crown princess.

It didn't help how she'd always had an intimidating air around her, even as a young child.

"You don't scare me," Azula sneers. She levels her glare at his other lackey, and this time it's the boy's turn to gulp and back away a little.

"Whatever. Just don't try to get in my way."

"I'm not going to follow orders from a peasant boy like you."

"I hate you. Everyone sees you as this nice girl but you're just annoying. And stop calling me that stupid word! What does that even _mean_?"

" _Peasant_ means you're just like me, a genius. Look it up. You'll thank me."

"Come on Kacchan, let's just leave, she's not worth our time-" one of the brat's tag-along whines, and both Azula and Katsuki say "shut up" at the same time, much to Azula's eye-rolling exasperation and Katsuki's annoyance.

"Tch. Fine." He turns away from her, but not before saying, "We're not done yet."

She makes a shooing motion with her hands, as though he's some sort of rabid dog invading her space, and it's worth it to see the look on his face before he heatedly scampers out of the room, his friends struggling to keep up with him.

She sinks down to her chair.

She can't believe she had argued with a four-year old boy over such a petty thing.

 _How the mighty have fallen_ , she laments to herself.

* * *

Rei and Hiyori force her to eat lunch with them and to have her join them in playing with dollies. Her mood's already souring, but she chants inside her head, _Act like a princess. Act like a princess. Act like a princess_ to keep herself from hurting them with her temper.

It's easier when she tries to imagine Ozai saying the words, with his no-nonsense voice.

 _Act like a princess._

* * *

Izuku clams up whenever class starts and they have to seat next to each other as seatmates. He still gives her those indiscreet gazes she feels burning at the side of her face when he thinks she's not looking, but he doesn't talk, instead wallowing and being miserable in his self-appointed silence of shame. And she's fine with it, even prefers it because it means she doesn't have to talk to him.

Amidst the clatter of noisy children, they're both quiet.

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

She could burn Bakugou Katsuki to a crisp.

Really, she could. The thought of burning him alive is a tempting and entirely possible one.

It would be so easy. Just a flick of her wrist, and he'll end up as a burnt scorch mark on the ground.

He doesn't have the near-heat resistance that most firebenders are forced to have.

(Not yet anyway.)

It would take just a couple of minutes, maybe even seconds. So easy.

 _He'll scream and scream and scream, until his voice goes hoarse and dies out, until his heart stops inside his chest._

But she doesn't.

Because she's changed.

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

She's willing to bet all the ill-begotten gains of the Fire Nation that the Spirits are laughing at her distress from above.

* * *

It's dismissal time when she finds her singed notebook.

It's not entirely damaged, but the far right corner part of it is mottled and covered with ash-black. It also strongly smells like smoke, so it must've been burned just recently, when she went out of the classroom to take a restroom break.

 _Bakugou Katsuki._

He was really getting on her nerves.

The next day after that, Katsuki's staring at her with a triumphant look on his face.

So she decides to burn his belongings as well. And not just one, no.

 _All_ of his notebooks.

She's not guilty at all. _He started it._

She even arranges them-well, the remains of it-in a neat stack on top of his desk for him to find.

And, she thinks with great satisfaction, she's sure that his enraged shout could be heard all over the hallways.

But, surprisingly, he doesn't tattle to Ms. Fujioka or his parents, because the school's not phoning the Yukimuras for their child committing acts of bullying and vandalism. Probably thinks tattling is a sign of weakness and admitting defeat.

In the non-existent rule of petulant children, in situations like this, tattling was considered a big no-no. You had to gain the upper hand, sooner or later, until the other concedes defeat. The brat understands that.

* * *

.

.

.

But she doesn't care about that, so one night she tells her mother about a boy who's bullying her in school.

"He burned my notebook, Mom," she says, and holds up the evidence. Yui looks concerned, and Azula thinks _Good_. _Report that brat._ Azula doesn't want to take the matter into her own hands, doesn't want to tell Ms. Fujioka herself, partly because she finds her presence nauseating and partly because an angry parent is a credible one.

Yui's with her Aunt Kasumi, who just happens to be there to hear Azula complain about this boy who always tries to annoy her. Kasumi shakes her head when she hears about it.

"He went that far, huh? What a little shit. I think he-"

 _Yes,_ Azula thinks. _You think he's a brat. You think he should be reprimanded by the teacher. You think we should have the school attempt to contact his parents, just to let them know how much of an unruly brat their son is being._

 _I'm going to drag him in the dirt._

"-has a secret crush on your daughter, Yui. You know how boys are."

 _What?_

"That's not it at all," Azula protests in bewilderment. "He's always trying to rile me up during lunch break and dismissal, always trying to make me mad."

"Isn't that right?" Kasumi mutters. "Trying to take your attention for himself. God, the things boys would do for a fucking puppy crush."

"It can't be helped," Yui sighs. "My Yachiyo is a pretty girl. Intelligent, too."

 _You fools! That's not it at all!_

"Mom-"

"What's his name again? Bakugou Katsuki?"

Azula almost strangles the woman for interrupting her.

"Hey, he might be related to Masaru! We were study-buddies back in high school. Good man. Tried to date him once, but unfortunately it didn't work out between the two of us."

"Isn't he that costume designer for heroes?" Yui asks.

And now they're getting out-of-topic. She wants to scream.

"Listen, Yachiyo," Yui says to her in a serious voice. "If he tries it again, don't hesitate to tell me. But try to talk to him about it. You're a smart girl; if you speak to him civilly, he might stop."

Kasumi snorts. "Boys like that are hard-headed. He's just going to tease her more. I remember one time this boy with a strange quirk…"

Yui turns to listen to her, and Azula thinks _Don't indulge her!_

Useless. They're both pathetic and useless.

* * *

She tells Arima instead, because apparently he's the only sensible adult in the house with enough common sense.

"He probably just likes you," he says in an off-handed manner, and Azula visibly wilts. _Not again._ She doesn't see nor understand the logic in their statements.

"I remember when I was your age. I used to be like that, too, until I shaped up and matured. Thank God, or your Mom wouldn't have looked at me."

 _I don't care,_ she thinks.

"Dad, please take me seriously."

"I am, baby girl," Arima gently says. "You kids are just experiencing all these emotions for the first time. He's probably lashing out at you because he doesn't know how to deal with it at all. It's unusual for you because you're different, you're a mature little lady. Try to talk to him. Tell him politely to stop."

 _That's not what I wanted to hear._ Azula wants to say in frustration. What did she expect? Her present father was a psychologist so he thought-and talked-like one too.

But for some reason, she swallows down her protests, and says, "Okay. I'll try." _I'll try burning him like a roasted possum-chicken._

Arima beams at her. "That's my little girl," he says softly, and reaches out to ruffle her hair. Surprisingly, she lets him. There's still a feeling of discontentment expanding in her chest, and she tries to ignore it.

"Just don't scare him too much, okay?"

As if she's the evil one.

Not for the first time, she wishes someone would just _listen_ to her.

* * *

Years later, she'd look back at this moment and dread how much it foreshadowed the start of many terrible, _terrible_ things to come-

-for her, at least.

* * *

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* * *

 **A/N: Azula's starting to warm up to her parents (sorta), Izuku's being the ray of suns** **hine he always is, and let's be honest, if Bakugou and Azula ever truly meet they'll instantly want to kill each other.**

 **AKA the chapter where Azula/Yachiyo finally meets canon for the first time.**

 **Poor Azula. She just can't take a break, can she?**

 **And Bakugou's probably gonna try to bully her some more (pray for him guys)**

 **Thanks for reading, and please review! I appreciate constructive criticism. And tell me what you'd like to happen in this story, so I'll get even more inspired.**

 **Till next time! *heart eyes***

 **P.S: Anyways, have you all watched the newest/latest BNHA episode? Oh god I'm so hyped**

 **(also I've fallen in love with Zuko again while writing _Bow to the Sun_ , watch the video "Long Live the Prince" by TheLoaLok in Youtube, aaaaahhhhhh it's so good**

 **and yes, that bear thing was an obvious reference to that one episode where Aang, Katara, Sokka and Toph visited the Earth Kingdom)**


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